I can not remember the last night that a child did not end up sleeping in our room. It can best be measured in years, that I know.
And on most all of the nights, with the exception of the ones where I become a mommy sandwich in between two wiggly, insanely hot little ones - I love it.
By the time Henry came into the picture, Katie was in her room all the time, but three year old Julia would still worm her way into our bed. With a room sharing newborn and frequent night nursing, we couldn't have her up in the bed.
That's when we got The Little Bed. A twin air mattress, it just fits under our bed when inflated, with a minor amount of tugging and shoving.
It is a reward.
If you are a good listener, you can sleep in The Little Bed.
It is a consolation.
Your sister's on a sleepover, you can sleep in The Little Bed.
It is a comfort.
She's not feeling well, let her sleep on The Little Bed.
It is used by both girls as they need it, as we like it. It's too small and they are too big to share it now, and thunderstorms find us all together - Katie in the recliner, Sean, Henry and me in the big bed,and Julia and Shutup Roxy in The Little Bed.
I lay there awake, listening to the night noises of people and animal, soft shifts and sighs. These children of mine, who radiate heat like little woodstoves as they sleep, causing me to kick a leg out from under the covers and will myself out of bed to turn on the fan. I lay there, thinking about the fan and listening.
I think everyone is exactly where they're supposed to be.
2 weeks ago